Beaten
by 1smajlicek1
Summary: Patrick shows up at Pete's house beaten, full of blood, feeling dizzy and scared. Pete's there to help and comfort his friend. Peterick/Fall out Boy/Pete Wentz/Patrick Stump/Fluff/Hurt-Comfort/Cute English is not my first language so I am sorry for any grammar mistakes I did!


I came home at 7 with a shopping bag full of food and couldn't wait for my own bed. After weeks of touring I really needed some rest. Guys from the band wanted me to go out with them, but I was tired as hell and only wanted to lie on my couch. I prepared myself some snack and found my favourite movie. Pete's evening could begin.

I fell asleep after 15 minutes of watching. I couldn't help myself, I run out of energy on this tour and that only meant it was great. Suddenly, my door bell rang. The noise woke me up and I felt kinda disoriented for a second.

„Who the hell is it..." I mumbled to myself, but stood up and went to open the door, rubbing my eyes. And there he was, standing leaned against the door frame, Patrick. But my eyes grew wide when I saw his face.

„Pete..." he coughed and a small trickle of blood run from his mouth. His left eye was bruised, lip was swollen and cut and his originally white T-shirt was crumpled and dirty.

I was completely awake. „Oh my God..." I couldn't find words. I grabbed his hand, helped him to go inside and laid him down on the couch.

„What happened?"

„I was with guys -" he said but started coughing, blood running down his chin. I wet a towel and tried to clean his face gently. Patrick hissed and groaned in pain quietly, so I stopped.

„- I was going home, you know that dark street near your house, it's a short-cut..." he said, obviously beaten up. „Then... there appeared some guys...and they were drunk...I was alone, I couldn't- I tried..." he was shaking.

„You're safe now, ok? I will take care of you. Can you sit up?"

„I am all right..." he tried to defy, but moaned when he moved. I pressed his shoulders. „Don't move. I am sorry if it hurts, but I have to clean your wounds."

„Pete, it's ok, I am-I am all right..." his eyes were closed and his breathing was deep. I took off his shirt and was horrified by the blue and red contusions that were showing on his ribs. „Oh my God, Pat..." I whispered and touched them carefully. He clenched his teeth, but didn't make a noise even though it must have been so painful. I was cleaning his body with hot water and when it was done I moved to his face. He didn't show any pain during that, only his fists were clenched, but as soon as the towel touched his totally damaged lip, Patrick's eye-lids shivered and his head leaned back.

„Fuck..." I whispered to myself and cupped Patrick's head in my hands nervously. „Pat! Hey, Patrick!" I shouted, slapping his face and splashing water on it. His eyes slowly opened and found me.

„W-what-Pete...?" Patrick muttered his pale skin totally green. Sweat drops appeared on his forehead and he looked like he was about to vomit. And he was. A moment later he coughed and threw up on the floor.

„S-sorry," he whispered. He looked so innocent and I suddenly felt so angry. _Whoever did this to him, I want to kill them, hurt them like they hurt my best friend._

„Don't be sorry, I will clean it, " I told him and saw, how much pain he felt in his ribs.

„I should take you to the hospital," I mumbled worriedly, because he really didn't look well.

„No, p-please," he begged me urgently. „Don't want." He was like a child, but I didn't want to force him, not for now.

„Well, you should see a doctor, Patrick. You look pretty bad," I told him carefully.

„Do I?" he asked, obviously didn't know about it. I decided not to tell him everything now, scared it would make him faint again. Instead of answering, I took the towel and continued in cleaning his face gently.

„How much does it hurt?"

„It's fine..." he said but I frowned and he understood that he could be honest with me.

„It hurts... I am sorry I burst in here without warning-" he coughed and closed his eyes for a second. Then he took a breath and told me: „You were close and I didn't know what to do... I am sorry. Can you please take me home? I-I don't want to disturb you..."

„No, I can't. You don't want to the hospital, so you will stay here." I told him.

I went to the kitchen and found some ice. „Sorry if it hurts, but it will help you," I said and put it slowly on the bruise under his eye. Patrick closed his eyes in pain. „T-thank you."

„Are you sure you don't wan to the hospital?" I asked.

„I am. Don't want. It's cold..." he mumbled and I saw he was losing consciousness again. His body was hot when I touched him, the consequence of the injury and shock.

„Stay with me, Patrick. Patrick!" I was successful because he opened his eyes.

„Patty, you need to lie down in bed. I will help you, but do you think you can stand up?"

„I can do it, I am not dying..." he said and I understood he felt ashamed for what had happened.

My arm was wrapped around his waist and we were slowly moving upstairs. I helped him to my bed, covered him with blanket and sat down next to him.

„Now sleep. It will help you. Are you hungry? Do you want anything?"

Patrick shook his head. „Maybe a bucket. In case I throw up again..." I was a little moved by the fact he was thinking about not getting my floor dirty.

„Ok, I will put one next to the bed. Something else?"

„No, thank you, you did more than I could ask for..." He was tired.

„Patrick, just tell me, if you need anything, ok?"

„Thank you," Patrick smiled but had to stop, because his cut lip hurt.

I pressed his hand. „Sleep. I will be next door."

And with one last look I left him there, in my bed, and entered my working room. My couch was not the most comfortable, but at the moment I didn't care where I would sleep. I was literary dead a second after my body touched it.

I woke up and everywhere was dark. I decided to go and check on Patrick. I slowly opened the door, trying not to wake him up. Patrick's black silhouette was on the bed, retching, but not vomiting.

I walked across the room and put my hands on Patrick's body to support him, because it must have been exhausting. My hand pushed his hair to the side; it was stuck to his forehead with sweat. I felt his body tensing with each retch that shook with his aching body.

Patrick finally threw up, straight to the bucket, and was catching his breath, shivering. I was scared, if he wasn't injured more seriously than I thought.

He was shaking in my arms and I quite didn't know what to say, so I simply put up with holding him. When he recovered a little, he sat up.

„Thanks..." he said. It was clearly obvious he was ashamed for the situation so I better didn't comment it and only reached for the glass of water I had left here and placed it to Patrick's lips. He held it carefully with one hand and drank.

„Thank you, Pete..." My best friend had never looked so small before.

„Don't thank me. Can I leave you here now?"

„You can. You should sleep too. Where are you sleeping tonight anyway? "

„On the couch," I simply answered. „Fine. Are you sure I can go?"

„On the couch? I am so sorry..." His eyes were wide.

„Don't be. It's totally cool." I helped him back to lying position, pressed his hand gently and whispered „Good night." Then I left the bedroom.

I had been tossing and turning since the moment I lay down on the couch. A look at the clock told me it was 2 am. That means I had been awake for two hours, still turning, finding a better position or a colder side of my blanket. I was really tired, but worries about Patrick didn't let me sleep. My ears were pricked up in case Patrick needed me.

Suddenly, when I snoozed for a second, I heard a noise coming from the next room. Maybe it was just my head, but everything sounded louder in the dark. I waited till it was heard again, and then I went to see, what was going on.

I found Patrick lying in the bed, under the blanket, turned his back on me. His shaking shoulders and quiet sobs revealed he was crying. That hurt my heart. He didn't hear me coming, and I was deciding, whether to go and try to comfort him, or leave him alone so he wouldn't need to feel ashamed or bad. But when I heard him, I just couldn't go.

I sat down on the bed, the mattress bent under my weight and the wood creaked. Patrick tensed up, trying to stabilize his breathing but couldn't help those sobs that were shaking his body.

I put one hand on his hot shoulder. „Trick?"

He turned to face me, slowly because it hurt, but didn't look at me. Sometimes words are not needed. I lay next to him and embraced him gently. He snuggled up to me, weeping. He needed to stop because it must have been hurting his ribs and everything.

I let him cry out the worse, and then I started to console him.

„Shhh, Pat, don't cry. What happened?"

But he only shook his head and buried it into my chest. He was in shock and I really wanted to help him.

„Tell me. Please," I whispered. His forehead was hot.

„I-I am so stupid..." he cried.

„Oh no... shh Pat. You're not."

„C-crying like an idiot,a ch-child..." he was feeling so desperate and I couldn't stand looking at it.

„No, no. Stop it. It will be all right, everything is okay now..." I guessed the reason for this was something like post- traumatic shock.

„I was so scared they were going to kill me... So scared. I couldn't fight them back, I wanted... I really did!"

„I know you did, Patrick," I mumbled while rubbing his back. But everything I did didn't seem to be helping at all, because he was still shivering and sweating, fists clenched that his fingernails were digging into his palms.

The best thing I could do was to let him talk, if he wanted to. He needed to let it out.

„I wanted to fight, but I was alone. There was only me... I was not drunk, you have to trust me... His voice was cracking. For Patrick it really mattered, if I trusted him.

„I trust you, I do, Trick," I told him, took one of his hands to mine and tried to relax his fingers. He looked like in trans, and depend on what I saw, he had closed eyes, head still hidden in my chest.

„You can't... you don't understand... I-I didn't see them coming and they told me they knew who I was, they were laughing at m-me... And suddenly I was-was..." Patrick's voice betrayed him and he sobbed. I held him closer, decided not to say anything until he wanted to continue himself. The only noise was the clock. Tik-tak. After five minutes during which Patrick found new breath and calmed down a little in my arms, he started again.

„I was lying on the ground... Have no idea how...how it happened. I wanted to stand up and defend myself. I heard their voices, and then felt how they started kicking to me... then one of them lifted me up and I saw only half of his face...Can't remember... he punched me and the others laughed. I hit him but when I did it-" he shook his head, blinked and swallowed. „-he got so angry and I thought I was going to die. I saw you, Andy and Joe, my whole life was running in front of my eyes like a movie. They were beating me... I can't say how long it last, I was just lying, wanted to die soon so the pain could stop. And then I must have fainted because I have no idea..." he stopped and I leaned his head so I finally saw his face. Those blue eyes were filling with tears. „I didn't want to die! I was so scared!" I felt so sorry. Nothing I could say would help. I hugged him, he placed his head on my shoulder and I heard him whispering to the sobs. „So scared...so much..."

„It's okay. Shh, Patrick, Patrick, it's all right. You're safe now. No one's gonna hurt you again, I promise." He was like a big baby and I knew how he felt. Patrick was terrified and felt bad. Such a grown man like him, crying and beaten up. But he could be himself with me and he knew it well.

His sobs were getting calmer, not so his mind. „I tried...I-I wanted..." he kept whispering, trying to convince me of the truthfulness of his worlds. Or trying to convince himself? I held his hand and with the other I was hugging him, cuddling him closer to me. Non of us cared how weird it looked like.

„I know you tried. You did your best, Patty." I whispered back, but Patrick was like he didn't listen to me.

„I wanted so much... Please..." Patrick's voice was weak and I was sure that if he had wanted, he wouldn't have been able to sing a simple note.

„What are you begging me for?"

„Please, trust me. And forgive me I am here now-" his voice broke once again. „-and I am bothering you, you have to sleep on the couch and-" I stopped him with my hand placed on his lips. „Shh. Don't say such things."

I was looking into his eyes and could literally saw the pain. He wanted to say something more, but when he moved, he moaned in pain.

„What? Are you all right?" I was scared.

„It's just...just my ribs. It hurts..." he closed his eyes.

„I know, Patty, I know. I will give you some painkillers, they will make the pain better and help you sleep. Yes?"

He nod, eyes still closed.

„I will leave you for a minute, but I'll be right back." I told him, slowly let go of him, trying not to hurt him more. In the kitchen I found the pills and with a new glass of water I took them upstairs.

„You'll have to sit up, Trick." I mumbled.

„I can do it," he answered and with my help he sat up, but it had made him tired so I had to hold the glass for him and help him drink the water.

„Now you will feel better, trust me."

He nod again. „Thank you. Go to sleep."

„I will. As soon as I am sure you can go to sleep too. I wanna be sure, you are all right."

„I am. I think I can go to sleep now. Thank you, Pete."

I looked in his eyes and saw, he was determined to do it. „Okey. Sleep well, Trick."

I was slowly closing the door behind me, when I heard Patrick saying something. I turned around.

„What? Did you say something?"

„I said-" came to me from the dark, „-I don't want to be alone." Patrick almost whispered it. I did two big steps and lay next to him into the bed. His hand found mine and he held it like the last thing on Earth. I couldn't help myself, but I leaned closer and kissed him on hair. „Sleep," I whispered to it. „I won't leave you."

I felt his body relaxed. In a minute he was asleep. His hand was still holding mine.


End file.
